‘Cheers,’ she said, raising the glass to him and giving the slightest bow of her head. She didn’t even grimace as the cheap liquor burned her throat.

‘Slainte,’ he replied, raising his own plastic cup and mimicking taking a drink. ‘Now we can really get to know one another, body and soul. I shall cherish every moment of it.’

‘Refill?’ Elspeth asked, her voice a too-bright mask for the twilight of fading hope beneath.

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘As many as you want.’

It wouldn’t be enough, Elspeth thought. However much alcohol was in that bottle, it couldn’t prepare her for what was to come. She gave up trying to pretend to be cheerful and allowed herself to cry instead.

Chapter Five

‘She’s taken it,’ the female undercover officer announced, her voice relayed into the earpieces of every officer posted around Waverley railway station waiting for the kidnapper to pick up the ransom payment. ‘Red hair, twenty-five to thirty-five, Caucasian, approximately five foot six, slim build. Jeans, white trainers, grey hoodie. She’s exited the ladies’ toilets.’

‘All eyes on,’ Baarda said, Connie listening in at his side. ‘Is the tracker on the bag working?’

‘Yes, sir,’ a male voice reported. ‘She’s heading onto a platform and boarding a train.’

‘Follow her,’ Baarda ordered.

‘Got to show my badge to get through. If she looks back, she’ll clock me,’ the pursuing officer said.

‘Let her get a few steps ahead then show your ID and get on that train. Do not lose visual.’

Baarda’s laptop screen showed the woman disappearing onto a crowded commuter train, then the officer with the concealed headcam started jogging to catch up. He climbed on board and began walking rapidly through the carriages. The woman wasn’t in sight.

‘She’s exited the train,’ a woman’s voice picked up the story, ‘but she’s not carrying the bag the cash was in. There are several supermarket bags in her hands instead. She’s gone into a crowd. I’m following.’

‘Confirm when you have a clear sighting,’ Baarda said.

‘She’s out the other side. Can’t see any bags, though. Her hands are free.’

‘Where are the bags she was carrying?’

‘Not sure, sir,’ someone replied quietly.

Baarda sighed. ‘All the other people in the crowd she went through need to be surveilled for those bags. Which supermarket were they from?’

‘Multiple supermarkets, sir. There are hundreds being carried in the station right now. It’s rush hour. We don’t know who we’re looking for.’

‘The tracker was in the middle of the rolls of notes. Where is it?’ Baarda demanded.

‘Exiting via the Princes Street steps, but we don’t know who’s carrying it, sir.’

‘Do you want me to pick the woman up?’ the female officer asked.